Don't Hold Back (Love Hurts Book 4)

by Missy Johnson

  I laugh and tap out a message, because she has a point.

  Erin: You had me worried. I’m glad you’ve come to your senses.

  Cade: What can I say? I’m a man of my word. I promised you I would look out for you and I will.

  I smile down at his words. They mean more to me than they normally would, because they come at a time when I need them the most. I’m looking forward to this trip more than I thought I would be, because no matter how it ends, this is my journey.

  “What time are Mum and Dad coming over?” Calli asks.

  “They should be here any minute,” I say, glancing at my phone. “Promise me you’re not going to get all teary on me.”

  “Only if you promise not to give us anything else to cry about,” she fires back. “This might be our last meal together as a family. I want happy memories from it too, Ez.”

  I smile at her and squeeze her hand. I want to tell her she’s being silly, but there might be some truth to what she’s saying. This might be our last get-together. I leave in two days, and I don’t know if I’m coming back. There are things I want to make sure they know, so that when the time comes, they’ll understand why I’m doing this.

  A soft rap on the door interrupts my thoughts. Calli jumps up from her seat and rushes over to answer it. Mum comes in, followed by Dad, who is clutching a bottle of champagne. I watch as Calli hugs them both. She takes the bottle from Dad’s hands and studies it.

  “1993?”

  “We got it when Erin was born. Apparently it betters with age, so we were keeping it until the birth of her first child…” He stops, realizing what he just said.

  “It’s okay,” I say, my voice soft. I lift myself from my chair and walk over to him.

  He smiles at me, his eyes glistening with tears as he wraps his strong arms around me. I fall into his embrace, where I feel safe and loved, like nothing in the world can hurt me. There is no warmer place than in my father’s arms.

  “Oh Erin, what am I going to do without you?” he whispers, kissing my cheek.

  “It’s okay,” I say again, only this time I feel empty, because he’s hurting and I can’t fix it. Tears roll down my cheeks, my soft sniffles giving way to sobs. I can’t halt the flood, because all I can think of is how hard this must be for them. I can’t imagine any pain compares to that of having to bury your child. Taking a deep breath, I wipe my eyes and pull away from him. I reach over to Mum and hug her, wishing the smile she wore wasn’t so forced.

  “Hey Mum,” I say. I was sure after a few days to process everything, she’d be okay with it, and while I can see that she’s trying, she’s not quite there.

  “Calli says you’ve been meeting with potential travel partners?” she queries. “Any luck?” I love that she’s trying, but her lack of enthusiasm makes me want to laugh. She might as well be asking me how I wash my socks.

  “I think I’ve found someone. You’d like him. He’s a nice guy.”

  “Does he have a name?” Mum asks.

  “Cade. Wilson.”

  “Do we get to meet him? We’d like to see who our daughter is going off gallivanting around the world with,” she says with a sniff.

  “I guess you can meet him,” I reply. To be honest, that hadn’t even occurred to me, but why wouldn’t they want to meet him? And it might be a good way to get Mum to come around to the idea. “You know what? I’ll set it up.”

  “Good,” Mum murmurs. For the first time, her smile looks genuine. “How are you feeling?” she asks. She reaches up and touches my forehead. “You look tired, Erin.”

  “I always look tired, remember?” I tease. I take her hand and squeeze it. “I feel good, Mum. Really. I’m looking forward to having a good night with the people I love most in the world.” Tears fill her eyes and I hug her close. “I didn’t want you to cry,” I laugh softly.

  “I’m going to miss you,” she whispers. “When you’re on your trip, not when—” She stops, shaking her head. “Not that I’m not going to miss you when you…”

  “Mum, stop.” I shake my head, determined to rescue her from digging herself a deeper hole. “Let’s just have a nice night and worry about the rest tomorrow, okay?”

  “That sounds good,” she says, looking relieved.

  After some exceptional Vietnamese food on Victoria Street that we had to wait in line for half an hour for, and a walk through the gardens, we arrive back at my apartment just after ten. It’s typical Melbourne weather in that the clouds that were blue when we left are now angry and grey in what’s supposed to be the middle of summer.

  “Come up for a drink?” I ask Mum and Dad. “I have something I want to tell you.” Mum glances at Dad and I chuckle at the look of worry on her face. “It’s not always bad, is it?”

  Back in my apartment, Calli prepares coffee while my parents settle on the couch. I disappear into my room, and into my walk-in closet. From up the back of the second highest shelf, I retrieve a box. My heart pounds as I place it on the bed and lift off the lid. I sit on the edge of the bed and study the contents.

  “Is that Grandma’s jewellery box?”

  I look up. Calli stands in the doorway, peering inside. I smile and motion for her to join me.

  She sits next to me, resting her head on my shoulder. “I remember the fights we used to have over this when we were little. I was devastated when she gave it to you and not me.”

  “I know.” I grin. “Which is why I want you to have it.”

  “What? Erin, no,” she protests as I try and give it to her, pushing it back into my hands. “No, not yet. You can’t do this yet, Ez. It makes it too real.”

  “When shall I do it then? When I’m dead?” My words cut through the air like a knife. “I need to make sure everything is sorted before I go.”

  “Why not do it when you get back?” she asks, a sense of desperation in her voice.

  I frown at her. Does she really need me to answer that?

  “Because you don’t expect to come back,” she mumbles, more to herself than to me. “Is that why Mum and Dad are out there, so you can offload your belongings to them and then skip the country, leaving me to clean up your mess?”

  “It’s not like that,” I reply. I’m hurt that she’s taking her anger out on me. “I don’t know how I’m supposed to do this, Calli. Forgive me, but this is my first time dying. I just wanted to make sure everything was in order so I wasn’t leaving you to clean up my mess.” My voice raises a few notches, but I’m too upset to worry that Mum and Dad might hear.

  “I’m sorry.” Calli sighs and sinks back down on the bed, defeated. “The last thing I want to do is make this harder for you.”

  “And all I’m trying to do is make this as easy for you guys as I can. I know nothing is going to make this all okay, but if I can take care of the little things now, then at least I can know you don’t have to worry about that.”

  “Little things?” Calli repeats, her brow creasing.

  I hesitate and pull out a folder from the box.

  “What’s this?” she asks as I hand it to her. Her eyes widen as she scans through the pages inside. “Are you kidding, Erin?”

  “It’s all sorted so that Mum and Dad don’t have to worry about it,” I quickly explain. “All you have to do is give them this after I’m gone.” Funeral arrangements, right down to catering for the wake, and what to do with my ashes and the remainder of my belongings. It’s all there, formally documented by a solicitor. “Please, Calli. I need to know that you can do this.”

  “I’ll do it because I love you and I’d do anything for you,” she whispers.

  “There’s one more thing.”

  “God, Erin, no more. Please.”

  I ignore her and pull out three envelopes from the box.

  “Here. One for each of you to read after my funeral. Do not give them out before then, okay?”

  She nods, tucking the letters safely into the folder before turning back to glare at me. “Are you done?”

  I nod, fi
nally feeling satisfied. I stand up and link my arm in hers. “I think so.”

  Chapter Eight

  Erin

  “He’s not coming, is he?”

  Mum frowns at me from her armchair under the shade of the large umbrella that she insisted Dad prop up against the outdoor setting. I glance down at my phone again and reread the message.

  Cade: I’m sorry Erin, something’s come up. I’ll see you at the airport tomorrow.

  “How can you be sure he’s going to take care of you when he can’t even make it to your farewell barbecue?” Mum asks, shooting my dad a look.

  “We’ve been over this, Mum,” I groan, rubbing my head. “He had no obligation to come to my farewell barbecue—which I didn’t even want to have in the first place—and I don’t need anyone to take care of me.”

  It’s Saturday afternoon, the day before we leave, and the last place I want to be is here watching my parents grill Cade about his ability to care for me. I’m secretly thrilled he couldn’t make it. I don’t even care what his reason is. I have so much still to do that I feel like hiding under my bed until it’s time for the plane to leave.

  Mel wanders over, a sausage in her hand. She gives me a sympathetic smile.

  “Can I help with anything?” she asks. “How are you getting there tomorrow?”

  “Taxi,” I reply.

  “Like hell you are,” Dad growls.

  I turn around, shocked at the tone of his voice. Dad never raises his voice. Ever. Not even when Calli filled his shoes with superglue when she was nine. He couldn’t walk for a week because his skin was so raw from the chemicals needed to free his feet.

  “You think I’m going to let you take a taxi? I’ll be driving you.”

  “I need to be there at four a.m.,” I protest.

  “I don’t care when you need to be there, I’m taking you.”

  “Thanks, Dad,” I say.

  He wraps his arms around me and kisses my head. It means a lot that he wants to do that for me. I just hope there are no tears.

  “Why don’t you stay here tonight?” asks Mum. “I can make up your old bed, just like when you were little.”

  “All my luggage is at home and there’s still things I need to pack,” I mumble. “I don’t have to leave just yet though. Want a hot chocolate outside on the porch, like old times?” I ask her.

  She smiles. “I’d like that.”

  I’ve been packed for days. Everything I need is sitting by my front door, waiting for me. It would kill Mum if she knew that, but I couldn’t stay here—not without falling apart.

  There are too many memories in this house that I can’t handle thinking about right now. Every dream I had for my life, I had under this roof. Being here reminds me of how innocent I was as child, thinking nothing could hurt me, when the truth is that nothing is guaranteed in life.

  It’s after midnight when I arrive back at my apartment. It’s a strange feeling, knowing that this might be the last time I walk through this door. I take my jacket off and hang it over the back of the chair. Walking over to the living room window, I pull back the curtains and gaze out over the Melbourne skyline. This might be the last time I ever take in this view. I feel hollow, empty inside. Even though I still have some wonderful memories ahead of me, all the things I am going to miss the most are right here.

  And there is nothing I can do about it, except focus on this trip and the two months ahead of me. I undress and place my dirty clothes in the laundry basket, which seems pointless, because chances are I’ll never be wearing them again. Maybe I should’ve just put them in the bin, but I can’t bring myself to do that to the pretty lavender silk blouse I’ve only worn once since I bought it last month.

  I climb into bed, my favourite place in the world, and huddle into my doona. As silly as it sounds, I don’t want to sleep, because I don’t want to miss a moment of this. I inhale deeply, breathing in the comforting smell I associate with being safe and happy.

  Not a moment goes by where I don’t wish things could be different. I’m embarking on a journey and I have no idea how or when it will end, and I’m scared. I’m so completely and utterly terrified of everything beyond this point, and there’s nothing I can do about it.

  “Thanks for picking me up, Dad.” I let him load my luggage into the trunk of his BMW while I stand on the sidewalk and wait.

  We are outside my apartment complex. It’s just after three in the morning, and I’m cold, tired, and nervous. He shuts the trunk and opens the passenger door for me. I smile gratefully. My heart pounds. This is it.

  “Have you got everything?” he asks. “Your passport? Ticket?”

  “Yes.” I nod. “I guess we’re ready to go.” I slide into the seat and lock my seatbelt in place. Dad gets in the car and revs the engine, taking off down the street.

  The bright side of leaving at this time of the morning is that there is barely any traffic on the roads. I gaze out the window. It sounds silly, but I want to remember everything, even the forty-minute drive on the freeway to the airport.

  “How are you feeling?” Dad’s voice cuts through the silence.

  I glance at him and force a smile.

  “You’re very quiet.”

  “Just thinking, I guess.”

  “About?” he gently prods.

  “I’m wondering if this is the last time I’ll be in the car with you.” I close my eyes and rest my head back against the headrest so he can’t tell that I’m crying.

  “Oh Erin,” he croaks. His warm hand encases mine.

  I swallow, and force myself to look at him. His eyes are red. Twice in a week. Things must be dire.

  “Whatever happens, you’ll always be my little girl. I’m sorry I couldn’t fix this.”

  “It’s not your fault,” I laugh. “You and Mum did everything you could in just being there for me.”

  “I feel like I failed you. Parents are supposed to protect their kids. I couldn’t protect you.”

  “You couldn’t save me from this, Dad.” I want to make him see how irrational he’s being, but I know nothing I say is going to change anything. I get what he’s feeling, because I’ve been there too. I’ve lost count of the number of times I’ve blamed myself for this. What if I’d gone to the doctor earlier? What if those two joints I smoked with John Sallanger and Calli behind the gym in year eight caused this? So many what ifs have run through my mind, and the thing they all have in common is that none of them are responsible for this.

  We pull into the short-term parking at the airport. I clench my knees together, my hands tightly clasped in my lap. My heart thumps, because saying goodbye to my father makes everything real. This is happening.

  “I guess we’re here,” Dad says, his voice thick with emotion.

  “I guess we are,” I agree. I don’t move and neither does he. Neither one of us wants to kick this thing into motion. I reach over and unclick my belt. I cave first because I don’t want to make this any harder for him.

  Saying goodbye to Mum was hard enough. Without saying it, we both knew that it might be our last moment together. The last time she would kiss me on the forehead. The last time she would wrap her arms around me and tell me things will be okay.

  Dad gets out and busies himself with organizing my luggage. He grabs a trolley from out the front of the entrance, piling my bags on top of it.

  “Thanks,” I say.

  He nods, not meeting my eyes.

  I step forward and throw my arms around his neck. He sobs onto my shoulder. I close my eyes, no words enough for the gravity of this moment. There is nothing I can say. Nothing I want to say. He knows how much I love him.

  “Thanks for everything, Dad. Look after Mum and Cal, okay?”

  He nods. “Have fun, baby. I hope it’s everything you want it to be. Call your mum every day, okay? For my sake. I have to live with her.” He rolls his eyes and I laugh. He takes my hand and holds it in his. “Love you, Erin.”

  I smile through my tears. “Love you too.
”

  Chapter Nine

  Cade

  “Who the hell books a flight for seven a.m.?” I grumble under my breath as I hoist my suitcase out from the boot of the taxi. I toss a twenty through the open window of the driver’s seat, telling him to keep the change. The whole twenty cents. Yeah, I’m generous like that.

  I’ve barely slept, which I guess is good considering the eighteen-hour flight I have ahead of me. Unless she’s going to want to talk the whole way, in which case no sleep is bad. Of course she is. Women always want to talk. Dying women probably take that to a whole other level. I chastise myself for being so insensitive. Let’s see if I can get through this trip without offending the girl. Or more realistically, let’s see if I can get through the week.

  I stroll through departures, scanning the crowd for Erin. I’ve only met her twice now, but she was kind of unforgettable—hot in a she-has-no-idea-how-hot-she-is kind of way. Even that first time, all wet and dishevelled, she was mesmerizing.

  My eyes fall on her and a smile tugs at my lips. She’s bent over her open bag, her long blond hair hanging loosely over her shoulder. It feels kind of wrong that I’m checking her out, given her situation, but I can’t help myself. I give it another minute before I walk over to join her.

  “Hey,” I say.

  She jumps, straightening up. Her face reddens when she faces me.

  “You’re supposed to do the packing thing at home,” I tease her. Half her luggage is dumped onto the floor next to her, and I love that she doesn’t seem to give a shit.

  “I’m looking for something,” she retorts, narrowing her stunning blue eyes.

  I raise my eyebrows curiously and grin.

  “It’s not important.”

  “It obviously is,” I argue. I’m enjoying playing with her. “And the fact that you don’t want to tell me what it is makes me wonder…”

  “Well stop wondering,” she replies. “If you want to do something useful, help me zip this up. It’s stuck.” She bends back over and gives the zip a yank, as if to prove her point.

  “It’s stuck because you have this caught in it.” I grab hold of the offending material and back the zipper up. It releases, and I proudly hold it up. “Lacy and transparent,” I say when I realise I’m holding a pair of her panties. I let out a low whistle. “I’m impressed.”